


The DDS does BDSM

by AnuTheJackal



Category: Little Shop of Horrors (1986)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BDSM, Bloodplay, Gags, Graphic depictions of violence - Freeform, Internalized Homophobia, It's mostly fluff though, M/M, POV Alternating, Restraints, S&M, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-18 15:44:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 4,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9392048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnuTheJackal/pseuds/AnuTheJackal
Summary: Instead of killing Orin, Seymour flees from the waiting room, but decides to instead confess his deep admiration to Audrey. Orin, left single and a tad miffed, thinks a bit more on his situation and comes to a revolutionary idea.





	1. Thinking It Over

Sitting in the dentist's waiting room, Seymour was nervously hunched, listening to the wails emanating from a few doors down the hallway. His thoughts had turned stubbornly murderous, in an attempt to motivate his planned deeds.

This attempt turned out to be futile, however, as Seymour's kinder nature began to win him over. He stood up and paced. Could he really kill someone, or would this all end with him in prison for life and Audrey's continued relationship with this quack? Surely there was a more rational solution to his problem? Talking to her about this... thing he has for her must be easier than taking out this Scrivello guy.

Mind made, Seymour hightails it out of the building, planning on putting the pistol back where he had found it.

Meanwhile, Orin Scrivello DDS was loudly kicking Mr. Denton out of his office.


	2. A Day Most Revolutionary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've been outlining the future chapters, so hopefully I'll be able to update more frequently.

He was finally gone. Turning around to scan the empty waiting room for any hiding customers, he decides there were no more for the day. Great. Alone with these thoughts, memories of what had minutes ago transpired thrashing about in his mind. As he walked down the hall to his sparkling office and then when starting to sterilize his equipment, he could only conjure thoughts of one thing and one thing only.

The patient, Denton he had called himself, had stirred in him such unusual feelings. Usually he delighted in the torment and agony of his victims, but Denton.... The man had enjoyed his torture, and in return, he had began to want him to continue to enjoy it. His arousal at the situation deeply disturbed his sense of self. He likes chicks. Chicks are great... Audrey was his girlfriend, and she wouldn't want him to be having any such inclinations as that. Not that he cares what she thinks anyways. 

His thoughts still nagging at him, Orin finishes putting away his sterilized equipment, puts on his jacket, and locks his door on the way out. He decides some fresh air would do him good, so he takes the scenic route home on the Harley. When he gets there, he relaxes with a beer and a magazine for several hours, occupying himself with mindless hedonism. That is, until he receives a really, truly, disgustingly day-ruining telephone call.

Hello?...Oh, hey Audrey. You better still be on for tomorrow night cause.... Yeah.... What?...What!... You're joking.... No, seriously, Audrey, this isn't-... Oh yeah? Well you're no-... Hey!... Really?... No.... No.... Yeah.... Yeah really.... WHAT! DON'T YOU GO FEELING SORRY FOR ME MISSY, I CAN SNATCH ANY BROAD I WANT.... YES.... Yes.... Oh you just watch, you'll-... Just fuck off.

The call ends, and Orin's emotions are in a tailspin. He doesn't know what to think. His plans for the immediate future have blurred, and all he wants is to drown his pain, pronto. He goes back to the refrigerator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be Arthur's POV.


	3. Blue Skies and Rose Thorns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unlike Orin, Arthur had a quite lovely day.

On his way home, Arthur stops by his work to drop off a file. His job is not all that interesting, he knows, but it pays well enough that he can't really complain. He's in a stellar mood, so he takes his time driving back. The sky seems bluer, the air blowing through his car's windows smells cleaner. 

Inside his house, he takes off his suit and tie, then rolls up his sleeves. He puts on sandals and heads outside again, to his rose garden. He loves his garden, pruning the thorny bushes every day and painstakingly returning them to order. After this task is done, he sits on his back porch, listening to his neighbor's radio play. He doesn't own one, so he'll take whatever they want to tune in to. 

After a while of enjoying the beautiful weather, he goes back inside to get ready to sleep. But almost immediately after he slips into his covers, the telephone begins to ring, jarringly loud to his tired ears. He gets up and stumbles over to the other side of the room, where his desk phone is still making that awful sound.


	4. Ring Ring, Hello

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orin rings up Arthur to explain.

-Hello?  
-Is this Denton?  
-Yes, this is Arthur Denton.  
-Hey  
-To whom am I speaking?  
-Oh. This is…  
-Yes?  
-Orin.   
-Orin? Do I know you?  
-Yes. You're my patient. From the practice.  
-Dr. Scrivello?  
-Yeeeaaahh thas me.  
-Are you drunk, Doctor?  
-Ooooh yeah, for sure. The mooosst drunk, like, EVER.  
-I see. Not that it's not nice to hear from you, Doctor, but is there a specific reason you're calling?  
-Sorry.  
-What? Why are you sorry?  
-I. I kicked you out an’ yelled at ya’. That. Wasn't so courteous of me.   
-Oh. Well, that is generally the reaction that I get, so don't feel bad.  
-Nah, it was great. I was just mad.  
-Why?  
-Cus you ain't a dame, that's why.  
-I’m afraid I don't quite grasp your meaning.  
-Well I've always only been smitten with the chicks, not the other ones, if ya catch my drift.  
-...Are you saying you find me… attractive?  
-Duh!   
-You’re being serious?  
-Mmhm.  
-We probably shouldn't talk over the phone, Doctor.  
-Eh?  
-The police. What if they're tapping the lines?  
-Hah! In Skid Row? That's a laugh!   
-I don't live in the city.  
-Oh. Well, I think you're bein’... oberly prekatious. Precarious. Prec…. Whatever.  
-...  
-My secretary called me. She sed you… got another… meetin’ wi’ me, nes week.  
-Yes that's right. I can't wait.  
-Oh, is that right?  
-I…. Yes.   
-Well. Wouldn't want my favorite customer ta’ go unsatisfied, would I?  
-You, I, what!?  
-Think I could squeeeeeze ya’ in, oh, tomorrow night, 8:30.  
-I thought the office closed at six.  
-Oh Arthur, we wouldn't meet at the practice.   
-Where then?


	5. Plans and Preparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orin wakes up to a hangover and regret.

Orin awoke the next morning with bleary eyes and a splitting headache. The remains of the bourbon bottle were spilled on the floor next to where he lay. He got up and rubbed his head, groaning in pain. This is the works, he thought. He moved to the kitchen gracelessly to get coffee and to scramble eggs. Luckily it was Saturday, his day off, otherwise he would have needed to use a sick day. Why did I feel the need to get this blitzed last… Oooooooh my God. 

His conversation with Denton came rushing back, and the original cause of the bender as well. He sits down and puts his head in his hands. He'd given Arthur his address. Invited him over for, what had he called it? His head drops to hit the countertop repeatedly. A “private health screening”. Well this is probably the most embarrassing thing I've ever done, he thought. But perhaps he could still salvage this situation, somehow. 

After finishing his eggs and pouring the dregs of coffee into the sink, he took a shower and got dressed. Then he went to his basement. It was kind of cliche, but it worked well, since any hypothetical company that comes over will never look down there. Thankful he has several pairs of handcuffs, since Audrey still has one in her purse, he surveys the equipment and tries to plan which would be best to put away or lay out.

What would Arthur enjoy? He thinks back to their last (and first) meeting. The man could not shut up, that was for sure. He gets out the ball gag.

Arthur definitely loves pain as well. The more extreme, the better, assumedly. He scans the well-organized cabinet for something suitable. Perfect. He takes a prepackaged medical scalpel from a small box of them, and on second thought, unwinds a coiled whip. Orin sets these down on the table, then picks up the screwdriver to tighten the bars on the opposite wall. He doesn't want Arthur to accidentally pull them out of the wall, since he was most likely stronger than who had been secured there in previous scenes. 

He doesn't want to think about Audrey right now. It was humiliating to be broken up with, especially over the phone, where he couldn't physically retaliate. He wonders what she would say, if he told her about Arthur. Wonders if she'd think it necessary to have him arrested for… well, she already knew about his sexual sadism. She'd probably just think this was the logical next step into the darkness. He chuckles aloud.


	6. Focus and Fantasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur would like to say he knows what he's in for.

Arthur sits nervously at his desk. He hopes none of his co-workers will notice his inability to pay attention to the data he is supposed to be analyzing, his mind constantly shooting off in different directions. Just a few more hours, he thinks, and I can go home. Go home and do what? He doesn't have a plan, just knows he needs to be home before he can do whatever his subconscious is telling him is necessary to do before his date with Orin.

Orin. It seems improper to think of him by first name, but after all, he is going to the man's home. But that hardly matters in comparison with what he should call him to the man's face. Would he prefer to be called Doctor, or maybe Doctor Scrivello? Arthur knows what he wants to call the Doctor- And he needs to stop thinking about this at work. 

Several hours later with work done, Arthur rushes back home, intently focused on the road for his own safety. Once again throwing his coat off, he does not prepare for gardening. Instead he paces the hallway, thoughts whirling with ideas. He's never done something, anything, like this in the past. The string of dentists had been his only release, but now, he realizes he is sorely inexperienced in the matters at hand. But Orin will explain, he's a professional! 

His professionalism is honestly such a turn on, Arthur thinks, stopping in his pacing to lean against the wall. He wants Orin to pin him against a wall. Just so Orin would be above him, he'd have to lean down, maybe… maybe fall to his knees in front of the shorter man. Arthur bites his lip. On his knees is where he belongs when next to the doctor, paying him the respect he deserves. Ohhhh, maybe Orin will tell him just how terrible he is, how he's worth nothing, how he's only there to please him. He wants to. He's never actually done it to someone before, but he's had it done to himself, so he can guess at how to reciprocate. 

Arthur looks down at the bulge in his slacks. He feels a very strong urge to just go ahead and get it over with, but… No! That could ruin everything! What if his refractory period lasts too long for him to get it up later? Or worse, what if he gets drowsy and falls asleep now, missing the date entirely?! No no no, that can't happen. He’ll just have to wait a bit. 

Later that night, Arthur begins to drive to Orin's house. Nerves jangling, he keeps scanning the surrounding streets for police, sure that he looks up to no good. He's chosen one of his cheaper white dress shirts, easily replaceable. He secretly wishes that it will need replacing by the end of the night. His car comes to a stop, and his feet carry him to the Scrivello residence. He lifts a hand, and raps excitedly at the stained oak door.


	7. Say Ah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The date is on!

Orin checks the clock on the mantle. 8:30. He gets up and smooths down the starched smock he'd put on for the occasion. Someone is at the door. Hopeful it is Arthur and not a serial killer, he unlocks and opens it. “Come right in Mr. Denton, you're just in time for your appointment.” Arthur stands a few inches taller than himself, but in this moment he looks, well, adorable really. Breakable. He moves inside so Arthur can follow, then locks it back. The other man is glancing around the entryway and living room. “Take off those shoes.” Arthur snaps rigidly to attention.

“Yes, Doctor.” He sits on the floor and hurriedly pulls them off, then stands again, clearly more focused this time, their heights slightly more leveled.

Not wanting to waste time with idiotic pleasantries, Orin grabs him by the arm aggressively and leads him to the other side of the house and then down the stairs. There is a door at the bottom. He takes out a key and unlocks it, then pushes Arthur through. 

By the time he's locked the door behind him, he can tell that Arthur must be thinking he's died and gone to heaven. Or hell. Whichever he'd enjoy more. Orin strides in front of him, then leans into the man's personal space. “You'll tap me twice if you need to stop, got that?”

“Yes, Doctor.”

Orin nods, and guides him by the shoulder towards the wall with the bars. His boots click on the black tile, a contrast to Arthur's soft footfalls. “Stand here, don't you dare move.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

He moves to get the handcuffs, comes swaggering back and twirls them on one finger. “I'm afraid, Mr. Denton, that this procedure will require your continued immobility. I'm sure you understand.”

“Certainly, Doctor.” He glances behind himself to look at the restraining bars. Orin notices, grins.

“Don't be nervous, Mr. Denton. This won't hurt… me. Arthur sighs with apparent relief at this. Orin moves to his side to wrap the handcuffs around the low bar, then tightens them around Arthur's wrists. The man is left in an arched position, bent backwards a bit to compensate for the position of his arms. 

His mouth opens, but before he can say anything, Orin interrupts. “I will tolerate no chatter in my office.” He leans down to look him in the eyes. “Will I need to keep that tongue in check?”, he growled.

“Please, Doctor.”

The expression on Orin's face could not accurately be described as a smile, but was more of a baring of teeth. He twirls dramatically back to the table and takes hold of the gag. He retrieves it and leans back down. “Say ah.”


	8. No Pain, No Gain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a bit messy.

He stretched his jaw, and the rubber pressed against his the back of his teeth and the roof of his mouth. Orin's warm hands brushed past his face to clip the strap around his head. 

“Remember, you'd have to tap with your foot instead of your hand.” 

He nods. 

“Try it.”

He hesitates, then swings out the heel of his foot and taps Orin twice on his shin.

“Good.” He leers. His hair then has fingers run through it, rubbing his scalp soothingly. “Hmmmmm. What should we start with?” Orin's hand trails from his hair, to his face, to his neck, then his chest, where he begins to unbutton his shirt. He slides the open shirt down his arms, where the shirt dangles to the floor. Then he turns and strides back to table. 

Arthur watches with anticipation, looks at Orin’s tight pants and what fills them. He closes his eyes, then hears boots stomp back and paper ripping, feels cold steel on his abdomen. Heart rate increasing, he breathes heavily through his nose. Orin's hand holds him steady by the shoulder again, and the knife flicks at his skin.

He gasps, muffled. The knife is over a rib, and it cuts deeper and deeper, one layer of flesh at a time. His eyes are wide now, rolling back in bliss. He knows he's drooling now, but can do nothing to stop it. It's wonderful; he has no control over what's happening. 

The bloody knife leaves the small gash, Orin trailing it in patterns over his chest, every once in awhile pressing down, leaving a red line. He looks down, trying to discern if it means anything. Then forgets this when the other man squats down, holds his hips, and starts biting his sides. The blunt force leaves patches of small bruises in his wake, and his hair tickles against Arthur's skin. 

He then straightens, takes the scalpel to his collarbone, points it at a right angle, presses in slightly, and twists it in a circle. Arthur shouts, except he cannot because of the gag. He's almost fully hard by now, and he seeks out relief by rubbing his groin into Orin's knee. The friction combined with the now constant scraping of the knife is driving Arthur crazy. 

Orin's pupils are very dilated, even though the basement lights are clinically bright. He slices another line, and groans as he watches the blood leak out. 

He wants to cause Orin to do that again, but with his hands tied, his options are rather limited. He lifts his head from the wall. Kisses the closest place available, his jaw. Orin stops, his eyes questioning. Then he looks at Arthur full on and slowly leans in. Presses their lips together. Chaste. Testing.

Then he pulls back. He licks blood from a row of cuts, then comes back to Arthur's mouth and kisses harder. He feels his tongue pressing against the seam of his lips. He opens them as best he can around the gag. 

Orin pulls back to then unsnap the gag and yank it out and hang it on a hook a foot away, before leaning back in. To Arthur, the taste of his blood is intoxicating and heady. Their teeth clack together and tongues swish against each other rhythmically. Orin's hand is in his hair again, and it pulls a bit. 

He moans into his mouth, presses as much of himself against Orin as possible, straining against the handcuffs. The sounds of metal chain jingling and scraping against the bar drowns out the wet noises of their kiss. Orin stops to unlock the handcuffs. 

One of his hands moves to his ass and the other to his back, supporting his weight while he hoists him up to sit on the bar, then moves to unbutton Arthur's pants. His hand slips under his briefs and starts to stroke in a steady motion. He kisses him again, this time biting his lip harshly. Arthur is crying at the intensity of the feeling. He doesn't want it to end, but he is already close. Orin licks over his abused lips. 

“It's alright, you're almost there.” He kisses him on the top of the head in a comforting manner. Arthur cries out loudly, and spatters white against his clothes, Orin's hand, and the black floor.


	9. Don't Let the Bedbugs   Bite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After care, and then they sleep.

He carries his him back to his bedroom. Arthur is dropped onto the bed, and, hands free, he turns on the lamp by his bed. Orin walks to his bathroom and soaks a washcloth in rubbing alcohol, and grabs some bandages. Arthur hasn't moved yet. He swipes across his chest and abdomen with the cloth. Most of the cuts have already clotted, and those that have not yet Orin covers with the adhesive plastic bandages. 

He gets up again, goes and takes his soiled briefs off and puts on a clean pair. That sound that Arthur had made at the end, God, it was so vulgar, he had been done in by it. He leaves the room to get water from the kitchen, and makes Arthur drink most of it before putting the glass down on the nightstand. 

“Get some rest, it's late.” He turns off the lamp and moves to the other side, takes off his boots and smock before crawling under the covers. 

Arthur, the sap that he is, scoots closer and rests his head against his shoulder. Orin turns his head to look at him, then lowers it and closes his eyes.


	10. Somewhere That's Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seymour runs into Orin at the cornermart, and they catch up.

Seymour leaves the apartment, his ears still ringing. Audrey had told him earlier that month when they had moved in they should check the smoke detector batteries, but he had not found the time to do so, and now he will need to go buy more before Audrey makes dinner tonight, and burns the casserole. He didn't mind. He hadn't married her for her cooking skills, after all. The green sweater vest he is wearing blends almost perfectly with the grass of the apartment's main lawn, and in the top buttonhole of his shirt is a small orange blossom. 

It's sprinkling out, hopefully it doesn't get worse before he gets back inside. He walks down a block or so until he reaches the cornerstore. When he walks in, he realizes he does not know what kind to get. Oh well, it will be best to have extras of different kinds. He grabs three packs from a shelf and turns, but almost collides with another customer.“Oh, sorry…” It was Orin, Audrey's former boyfriend! The guy he almost decided to murder! This was bad-news-bears. 

“Seymour?” Orin must recognize him. Damn.

“Um, hello Orin.” He hears his voice go up in pitch. 

Orin reaches out and shakes his hand jovially, as if they have been friends for years. Seymour is confused. Sure, it had been almost a year, but still, he had pretty much stolen the man's girlfriend. “H-how have you been?”

“I've been just great Seymour! In fact, I've never been better.”

“That's… interesting.” Shit, why would i say that, God why do i have to be so socially awkward.

“I suppose it is, yes.” He pauses conspiratorially. “Actually Seymour, though it may have hurt tremendously at that time, Audrey breaking it off was likely the best thing that's ever happened to me.” 

Seymour stands there, stunned. Orin doesn't look like he's lying. He actually doesn't even look like he's in a bad mood. He must have met someone, like Audrey had told him he had said over the phone, the night they broke up. 

Orin looks into his eyes earnestly. “How have you been doing lately?”

“Me?” he squeaked.

“Yeah.”

“Ummmm. It's been good.”

“Good?”

“No problems.”

“How about that giant plant?”

“Ah. You know, i actually sold that. To the government. They're going to do experiments on it or something like that.”

“Neat.”

“Sure. So what have you been up to?”

“Ha! You know me, fixin’ up teeth.”

“Anything else?” 

Now Orin has a glint in his eye, as if he's hiding something and finds it secretly hilarious. “Well-.”

“Okay, we can check out now.” A man in a suit is now standing next to Orin, who he clearly must have come in with. Orin turns to acknowledge him.

“Arthur, this is Seymour.” 

“Oh hi! Are you one of his patients?”

“Uh, no.”

“You should check him out, he's such a great dentist. Best one I ever went to.” 

Seymour remembers back to hearing the blood-curdling screams. “I'll take your word for it, but I don't have any dental problems right now.”

Orin reaches into his pocket and then hands Arthur a bill. “Go buy the beer, I'll be there in a sec.” 

Arthur smiles broadly. “Sure thing.”

Orin turns back to look at him, crosses his arms. It's good to see the man has friends, it humanizes him. 

“You and Audrey ’re still together, right?”

“Um, yes. Did you… “ 

“Did I what, Seymour?” Orin glances back to Arthur, and his expression softens. Seymour looks from him to Arthur, squinting. He notices an odd red mark just below where his sleeve is rolled up. Some sort of stripe, an abrasion- 

His head snaps back to Orin. He's looking at him questioningly, an eyebrow raised. Arthur clearly knows Orin, and vice versa. His voice even sounds a bit familiar. Arthur had claimed Orin to be a great dentist, and the only other person he had heard say anything so positive about the man was Audrey. He'd heard firsthand what pain Orin's dental work could inflict… And what could leave a mark like the one on Arthur's arm? It wasn't a cut, but a raised line… maybe a rope burn? No, more like a- like a whip. 

What? Oh my god. OH MY GOD! But there was no way… Orin was still watching him.

Understanding dawned on his face. “I- I have to…”

“Check out?” Orin replies helpfully. He looks down at the battery packs. 

“Yeah.” 

Orin smiles. He claps him on the back. “I like the vest. Nice color. Suits you.” 

“Thanks.”

“Well, see ya’ around.” He nods and walks over to Arthur, who has been waiting at the exit. 

Seymour stares at the two of them. That was so bizarre. But, they made sense together, in a strange way. But this was just speculation on his part, it's not like he knew for sure. 

As the two leave, Orin puts a hand around Arthur's back and leans in closer to whisper something. Arthur snickers and turns his head to wink at Seymour, before they both walk out the door and down the sidewalk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everybody that commented and kudos'd, without you guys I couldn't have finished. I wrote this fic because I was searching for Arthur/Orin fanfics on the web, but didn't find a single one. So here you go.


End file.
